


Love, Keith

by jamwrites



Category: Love Simon (2018), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gay, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Lance (Voltron), Love Simon AU, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Swearing, anyway ive seen this movie three times and i needed to get this off my chest, i cry every time i even think about it, i just love it a lot ok, klance, klance love simon au, rated teen for all the fucks i guess idk what u kids think is explicit anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 22:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14174394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamwrites/pseuds/jamwrites
Summary: The last few scenes of "Love, Simon" but Klance, because I love bandwagons and have no shame.**The carnie slid the latch into place, officially locking Keith into the car. The seat was a faded grey vinyl, cracked at the edges and leaking stuffing, perfectly wide enough to fit two. But he sat in the center, because even he hadn’t expected Blue to show right away. Keith checked his watch: 10:03.“Right,” he muttered to himself. “Here goes.”





	Love, Keith

  

 

 

 

Keith stared at his reflection in the mirror. His skin was red and splotchy from scrubbing off the stage makeup, his hair mussed up and a total mess after he had tried to get it back into some semblance of its normal self instead of the slicked-back monstrosity — _Cabaret_ had called for. And as always, the deep circles beneath his eyes stood out. He looked tired. He felt tired. The show had gone by in a sort of haze. He didn’t feel...present. Because even though his parents had been in the audience, all he could really think about was Allura, dancing on stage beside him but who hadn’t talked to him in weeks, and Pidge and Shiro, distant like orbiting planets.

Hunk, Keith had talked to and smoothed things over with, officially killing off Hetero Keith with a machete. But things were still weird in their group. He didn’t know where he stood, and Keith hated uneven footing.

Behind him, he heard the tell-tale squeak of the dressing room doors, and then Allura’s high-pitched squeal and the deep boom of Hunk’s voice and Pidge’s chattering as they all embraced. Through the mirror he caught sight of the flowers they had bought her, and then a flash of Hunk’s eye. Hunk said something to Pidge as Keith ducked away, pretending to fuss with his shirt sleeve, his hair, not quite sure where to put his hand.

_You get to exhale now, Keith._

He wanted to. He really, really did. And in some ways he had. But as much as his family meant to him, without his friends, all of them, Keith felt—as cheesy as it sounded—incomplete. What did high school mean if he couldn’t spend it with his favorite people in the world?

With Blue?

Of course, thinking of Blue brought back GarrisonSecrets like a slap upside the head, and Keith was struck with a jolt of nerves that settled right into his stomach again at the thought of the message he had posted on the site. Every word of it was true: he was ready to meet Blue. But he also still felt like throwing up. Everywhere. Many times.

 _9:15_. He should get going. It would be 10:00 before he knew it.

“Hey,” Hunk said, appearing over his shoulder. Keith glanced up and saw he had brought the whole gang; Allura and Pidge and Shiro stood there too, awkwardly. But there was a slight something in Shiro’s eye, that twinkle he got sometimes. Why would would he have it now?

“Hey,” Keith said slowly. He waited, unwilling to make the first move.

Hunk glanced at Allura again. She coughed. “Do you...want to go to the carnival with us?”

Keith blinked. He looked from Hunk to Allura to Pidge to Shiro, trying to process what he had just head. But each of them was breaking out into a smile, and it was infectious because somehow his face was smiling too, and before he knew it he was nodding, nodding.

“Yeah. Yeah, I really would.”

And then they were all laughing and he stood and was drawn into a giant, mushy friend hug like they hadn’t had since forever. It felt like a summer storm passing, light spilling into his eyes, drawing his mind off the anxiousness that refused to quit. Because right now, in this moment, they were all laughing and he knew without words that everything was forgiven. Of course it was. They were them; Keith loved them all, and he knew they loved him back.

“Then let’s go, Kogane!” Shiro punched his shoulder, his smile as broad as his shoulders. “Don’t you have a date?”

**

They found a place to park Keith’s shitty, gorgeous, disgusting car, and walked the rest of the ways to the Winter Festival. And when they crested the small hill, the sight took Keith’s breath away: before him was the fairgrounds, a twinkling display of blurry fairy lights and twirling rides and the smell of fried foods and cold night air. As one, they all walked down into it together, and Keith bought a huge wad of tickets from the girl in the vendor’s booth. Everything seemed to be moving fast and slow at once; the purple and pink lights flashing on Allura’s face, Hunk’s jokes, Pidge’s dirtier ones, all of them strolling through the fair with arms linked.

Keith had spent the last week in such a weird limbo. Trying to figure out how to drop his act had been so much harder than he’d been expecting. Most of it was stuff he wasn’t even consciously aware he was doing, reigning himself in in a hundred different microscopic ways all the time, and he kept having to catch himself at it. Before, he had been plugging holes in a barrel, but now the water got to go where it wanted. Because now, he could comment on the cute guy in the movies his family watched together. He could have a conversation at 11:00 at night with his mom at the kitchen counter over a tub of ice cream, talking about how she and his dad met, and what he thought his husband would be like someday. Not having to clear his browser history after searching “gay artist mix” on Youtube. Everything. All of it. It felt so, so good. And tonight felt even better.

He just wanted someone to share it with.

And if everything went ok, maybe he would get that.

“Alrighty Keith. Here we are.” Shiro put an arm around Keith’s shoulder and squeezed, because they had come to the Ferris wheel. Tall and spinning and covered with lights: the perfect thing for a grand romantic gesture. Or so Keith hoped. But weirdly enough, he didn’t feel like puking anymore. Instead, he nodded gruffly and took a breath.

Allura winked at him. “We’re right behind you.”

“All of us,” Hunk said, and Pidge nodded.

Another deep breath.

“Okay.” Keith ran a hand through his hair and stepped away. “See you all in a bit.”

Running his string of untouched tickets over and over through his fingers, Keith stepped up onto the little platform, where there was no line for something as lame to most as the Ferris wheel. He handed the wad of tickets to the bored-looking carnie.   
“For as long as they’ll give me,” Keith explained, and the carnie just gestured vaguely towards the open seat, rolling his eyes a little.

This was it. When Keith stood up again, either he would know who Blue was, or he would never find out. Only two outcomes. No more ambiguity. No more guessing. He loved Blue, but he had made a secret promise to himself: if Blue didn’t show tonight, then Keith would do his best to move on, even if it would kill him. Even if it would destroy everything. Because maybe his mom was right, and he deserved everything he wanted. Keith didn’t want to spend the precious remaining days of high school mourning the ghost of a boy he had fallen in love with but never met. He deserved a love story no matter what.

But he really, really, _really_ wanted that story to be about Blue.

The carnie slid the latch into place, officially locking Keith into the car. The seat was a faded blue vinyl, cracked at the edges and leaking stuffing, perfectly wide enough to fit two. But he said in the center, because even he hadn’t expected Blue to show right away. Keith checked his watch: _10:03._

“Right,” he muttered to himself. “Here goes.”

The Ferris wheel jerked to life, and his friends cheered as his seat began to rise into the air. Keith gave a feeble wave. His insides had suddenly turned to mush and were sloshing around in his stomach, not so much nerves as anticipation. He wanted Blue to come so badly it hurt.

_I think I’m destined to care about one person so much it nearly kills me._

Hunk was right. Even if Keith had been a complete dumbass about it. Neither of them were casual people.

And as his car went up and up and up, Keith thought about everything he had shared with Blue. So many secrets had been poured out between them, things that Keith would never have dared to tell anyone else. Blue had freaking _come out_ because of him. So many late nights spent writing emails and agonizing over what to say and so many mornings of waking up with his heart already thudding at the thought of a new message from from the boy he-

_Have you ever been in love?_

_Yeah. I think so…_

Keith had told Allura the truth that night. He loved Blue. The revelation had taken even him by surprise, and he didn’t know until he said it. But after the words had left his mouth, Keith knew they were right.

The cart began its descent, and with it, pinpricks of fear began to materialize in Keith’s sloshy insides. What if Blue didn’t show? Could he actually cut him out of his life for good? There had been so much disappointment already. He wasn’t sure he could handle more. He had been so sure, so many times, only to have the rug pulled out from his feet again and again. Even his safe space with Blue, the one place Keith could truly be _Keith,_ had been invaded by Lotor. And the worst part? Now that all the shit had blown over, Keith wasn’t even sure he had it in him to hate Lotor anymore. On some level, he understood the guy. He knew what it was like to want someone so badly you would do anything for it. Of course, that didn’t make what Lotor did okay. But the look on Lotor’s face at the football game, as Allura had let him down, had terrified Keith. It was all Keith’s worst fears coming true, except for Lotor, in that moment, they hadn’t been fear. It had been real. The person he thought loved him had walked away. In a single conversation, months of fantasizing gone to shit.

His cart sailed past the platform, and again, his friends cheered wildly like they were watching a sports game. Pidge was sitting on Shiro’s shoulders, and more people had begun to gather around. Keith thought he heard someone say “oh my God, he’s waiting for the other gay kid.” But when, on the second turn around, the wheel halted for him to get off, Keith gestured at the carnie to move on. Getting off meant defeat. It meant giving up on his love story.

“Whatever, kid,” the carnie said, and the wheel spun again.

Keith lost track of how many times he went around after a while. And instead of getting tired, his friends just cheered harder, beaming up at him, sending him good vibes. He rested his head on the cool metal of the safety bar for a rotation and wondered briefly it he had miscalculated. What if he had scared Blue away more than he already had? Or what if Keith had been too vague about where they were supposed to meet? What if Blue was somewhere else, waiting for a Red that would never show?

Over and over he went through the list of who it could be, just like he had since September. But try as he might, Keith just kept getting stuck on that one party, that one night, spent with Lance on Halloween. From the second Keith had walked in Lance’s door he had _felt something_ between them. The way he had Lance had effortlessly floated through the night together. All of their normal bickering at the lunch table was gone, leaving just the two of them to play Beirut and sing drunken karaoke and between those moments, a thousand tinier moments of meeting each other’s eyes and brushing hands and bumping into one another maybe accidentally on purpose and Keith had just been so goddamn _sure_. He had even stood in front of a mirror and practiced saying it to Lance: “I’m Red.” The soaring feeling in his chest then, the unconquerable bravery, the sense that something greater was about to begin.

And then: walking upstairs. Opening the door. Lance, and the girl, and the bed. The crushing disappointment that threatened to suffocate him. Lotor blowing chunks on his shirt.

Maybe it was just the Ferris wheel messing with his head, but Keith’s thoughts couldn’t stop spinning. With every two turns he watched his ticket wad dwindle. He tried his best not to panic. Instead, he checked his watch obsessively: _10:20. 10:23. 10:27._

_Come on, Blue._

The Ferris wheel ground to another halt and Keith raised his hand to gesture, but the carnie cut him off.

“You’re out of tickets. Sorry.”

Had he really used all them? But it was true: every one of Keith’s little yellow tickets was torn in half, sitting in the bucket by the control station. He looked around; Allura had buried her face in Hunk’s shoulder, unable to watch. The crowd of his classmates that had grown to ridiculous size had fallen silent.

The carny unlatched the safety bar and swung it open.

It was over.

Blue hadn’t come.

" _Wait!_ Wait.”

The crowd murmured and shifted, finally spitting out a tall, blurry shape that sprinted up to the platform: Lotor. He stood there, panting, ridiculous platinum blond hair in a tangled mess around his face. He raised his eyes to meet Keith’s.

“It’s me. Keith, it’s me. I’m Blue. I love you.”

There wasn’t the slightest fissure in Keith’s heart. Not even a tremble. He just stared Lotor down.

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not. But this-” Lotor straightened up and gestured to the crowd. “I’m sorry, but this is just brutal.” He turned to the carnie. “How much is a ride?”

“It’s four-” Lotor dug around in his pocket while the carnie stammered and surfaced with a wad of dollar bills, which he pressed into the carnie’s chest. “-four tickets. Dollars. Whatever.”

_You deserve a goddamn superhero._

Lotor nodded at Keith. “One more ride.”

Keith would never thank the guy, but he nodded back as Lotor melted back into the crowd.

The carnie stuffed the dollar bills into his shirt pocket. “Last call for the Ferris wheel!”

The crowd murmured. The tension in the air was very nearly physical, a viscous fluid that Keith felt like he could reach out and pry apart. He dropped his eyes to stare at his shoelaces, unable to do it anymore, unable to wait. Everything that had been building the last six months was all coming to a flaming, disastrous—

People began to talk excitedly in the crowd.

“Is this seat taken?”

When Keith raised his eyes, there was—there was _Lance._

Standing there, with his hands in his coat pockets, looking supremely gangly and awkward. A tingle traveled down every single hair on Keith’s neck. He opened his mouth, the world tilting just slightly. _Don’thopedon’thopedon’thope you know it’s not him don’t hope it’s easier that way just don’thopeyoustupidmotherfucker-_

“I’m...kind of waiting for someone,” Keith managed. His breath formed fog angels that dissipated into the night.

Lance grinned lopsidedly.

“Yeah, Red. I know.”

And then he sat beside Keith.

The safety bar swung shut after him.

The Ferris wheel began to rise.

Keith had simultaneously lost feeling to his body and felt every single nerve tingling with lightning at the same time. For several seconds he was too stunned to speak, his mind trying to process that he was sitting next to Lance, that Lance had just strode up and sat next to him, that Lance was-

“You’re Blue,” Keith breathed. And he knew, he knew from all the gaping fissures in his heart that it was true.

“Yeah,” Lance said with a little laugh. And he looked at Keith with his eyebrows scrunched up in a way that was extremely adorable. “Are you disappointed it’s me?”

Keith was still having trouble finding the connection between his brain and his mouth. It was as if the world was exploding in a dazzling array of—fuck it, he didn’t even have a good metaphor, it was just fucking _intense_ , the feeling right then. The wild hope coursing through his heart, no, screw hope, this was better than hope: this was happiness.

“No. Of course not.” A thought. “You’re Jewish.” Keith mentally adjusted his concept of Lance, which was a process already being taken over by the equating of Blue and Lance. “Which is fine!”

Lance laughed nervously. “And I’m Cuban. And gay. Kinda crazy, huh?”

No, no it wasn't, because seeing Blue and Lance as the same person was actually the easiest thing in the world. It felt like it had at the Halloween party: natural. Keith had been so, so sure, and now he knew why. Of course Lance was Blue. Of course Blue was Lance. How could he have ever thought anything different?

“But-” Keith stammered. “At your party-”

“Yeah.” Lance looked up for a second, then went back to holding Keith’s eyes, which felt about the same as holding an electric fence and not letting go. “I was drunk. And confused. And it ended, like, a minute after you left.”

“I didn’t know if you’d come.”

“Neither did I. Until I was walking towards you, actually.”

Their shoulders were brushing together. And their knees. And for some reason, the wheel slowed to a stop when they reached its apex, so that the two of them were sitting with a grand view of the fairgrounds.

Keith was smiling so hard it was actually hurting his mouth a little. “I’m glad you did.”

The look in Lance’s eyes was something that could have melted the ice caps. And then, because Keith couldn’t stand it anymore—the not touching Lance—he leaned forward as Lance leaned forward, and kissed him.

Keith had imagined kissing boys a lot. Okay, a mathematically incalculable amount of times. But this blew all those other times out of the water, because this time was real. He was sitting here, kissing a boy, kissing Blue, kissing Lance, and his hand was on Lance’s cheek, pulling him in closer, and his lips felt like a future.

They pulled back, searching each other’s eyes. They were both grinning, Lance’s cheeks flushed. From far below, Keith heard everyone screaming their throats out, and what sounded like Allura sobbing. But then everything was drowned out because he was kissing Lance again, and Lance was kissing him, and their Ferris wheel hovered at the top of forever.

_Three weeks later._

Keith pulled into Hunk’s driveway, giving the big guy just enough time to jump in the back seat before throwing the car into reverse.

“Hey dude.”

“What’s up?”

He backed straight across the street into Allura’s driveway. She was already out her front door and buckling into the shotgun, bringing her aura of energetic morning brightness to permeate the car. On the way to pick up Pidge from her apartment they stopped for coffee, of course, and Keith had to be extra careful with the unfamiliar weight of five iced coffees on the tray instead of four.

Lance, living the nearest to school, was last, and Allura waggled her eyebrows at Keith before crawling into the back to join Hunk and Pidge. Lance took her place, and leaned across the console to kiss Keith.

“Morning,” he said while claiming his iced coffee. “Your hair looks awful. Do you know what a comb is?”

“Love you too, babe,” Keith grumbled, but smiled while he said it.

Lance plugged his phone into the AUX, and after taking several requests and overriding them all after declaring that the “car is not a democracy”, he found a beat that spelled out in big, bold bass lines that summer was coming and school was almost over and life was fucking perfect.

“You know,” Keith half-shouted over the music, “I was thinking. Today is too nice to spend at school. What does everyone think about a little adventure?”

He was drowned out by a chorus of cheers, which Keith took as a _yes_ , so he cranked up the music and sped past the exit for their high school, and rolled down the windows to feel the wind in his hair. One of his hands dropped from the wheel. Lance’s fingers curled around his own, giving Keith that amazing live-wire feeling that never got old. His stomach was full of oreos, soon to be joined by amazing coffee, and his car was full of people he loved.

 _The one who sees. The one who hears._ Keith wanted every single one of these moments to stretch out forever. For them to be like a letter for him to read read over and over again.

He liked that. And if his life was a letter, if he was somehow writing to a Blue again, this time Keith wouldn’t use a fake name. He would sign it with the whole truth, not half. Something like…

_Love,_

_Keith._


End file.
